My Breastfeeding Journey
It's okay to want to breastfeed. It's okay to work hard and cry about it. It's okay to hate the process but desire the outcome so much that you refuse to quit.
I want to share my breastfeeding journey with you, recognizing that, like every mother's story, mine is uniquely my own. Each child and every mother is different, and in our diverse experiences, there's an opportunity for learning and support. My hope is that by sharing my challenges and triumphs, you can find solace, inspiration, and the strength to navigate your breastfeeding journey.
Breastfeeding my first child, Ethan, was no walk in the park. It was a journey filled with hurdles and hard work, taking months to find our rhythm. Amidst the struggle, well-meaning voices surrounded me, suggesting that formula was a viable solution. Undoubtedly, it is, but it wasn't the path I wanted for my breastfeeding journey and I deeply felt like my choice wasn't being respected. While giving a formula would have been a solution, it was not my solution. This crucial decision is personal, and whatever choice you make deserves respect.
However you choose to feed your baby is a personal decision — and whatever choice you make deserves to be respected. My choice was to keep trying.
Admittedly, I ventured into motherhood with minimal knowledge about breastfeeding, assuming it would come naturally — I was very wrong. I thought humans' evolutionary desire not to starve would have figured out the rest. I was wrong. Ethan would have rather starved. Ethan's initial refusal to latch and subsequent struggles took a toll on both of us. Despite the hospital's assurance that he was latching, it turned out he wasn't, leading to weight issues. The early days were marked by pain, confusion, and a steep learning curve. Ethan would rather sleep than eat; which, with a newborn, was also how I felt at the time.
By day two, we realized he wasn't gaining weight so I began waking him to feed and try to force him to latch — eventually, he latched. I was so excited; I was still new to breastfeeding so I had no idea if he was taking in milk, what to look for, or how long he should be feeding. I remember him latching for 45 minutes the first "real" time and me and my husband had to google how to get a baby off the boob to remove him so we could make it to our doctor’s appointment on time, which the pediatrician confirmed my worry — Ethan wasn’t gaining weight.
The journey led me to a lactation consultant, a pivotal point in my story. While she provided essential guidance, the challenges persisted. We couldn’t get a consultant to come until Ethan was around five days old. At that point, he’d been latching for a few days, but it was so painful. I thought it was normal. I had no idea. The idea of a baby sucking on my nipple didn’t sound like it should feel pleasant, but by the time we were able to get a lactation consultant to come, my nipples were raw, cracked, and bleeding. The lactation consultant listened, checked him for a tongue tie, and said everything looked fine. She worked with us for a couple of hours and gave me a nipple shield in order to protect my nipples from his death grip. She also mentioned that I’d have to pump for four minutes after each feed in order to keep up my supply because babies can’t fully empty breasts with a shield. I felt like we were in a good place when she left and I felt a sense of hope that we were moving in the right direction.
Nipple shields became a temporary solution, but what I didn't realize was the potential downside — they can create a dependency.
The lactation consultant never mentioned that babies can get addicted to nipple shields. Additionally, Ethan's struggle to latch was linked to tongue and lip ties, a revelation that came after several weeks of frustration. The process of correcting these ties was swift, but the aftermath required patience. The recovery process for tongue tie surgery can be painful for babies, so it was expected that he may not want to latch right away. Despite the efforts, Ethan still clung to the nipple shield. I cried SO much and felt like throwing in the towel and giving up. Breastfeeding meant everything to me, and I felt like a failure that I couldn't make it work. I was willing to do anything I could to make it work, but it truly felt out of my control. Emotionally and physically drained, I found myself at a breaking point, questioning my ability to provide the nourishment my child needed.
I was willing to do anything I could to make it work, but it began to feel unobtainable. In retrospect, this was my first real parenting lesson – giving up control.
By the three-month mark, I was drained from the relentless cycle of breastfeeding, pumping, and bottle feeding. The prospect of giving up loomed large, and I felt the weight of resentment. Yet, a turning point emerged when I took a short trip away from Ethan. It was during this break that I began to accept the reality — I couldn't force my son into something he wasn't ready for.
Upon my return, a surprising miracle occurred. With no expectations, I decided to try breastfeeding once more, and to my amazement, he latched. It was an unexpected and joyous moment, one that signaled the end of our struggles. Whether it was the distance, reduced pressure, or his natural development, I cannot pinpoint, but from that day forward, breastfeeding became a fulfilling and frequent practice for both of us.
